Cerise! Come and kiss me, you red haired harpy,” Izrayl bellowed. She smiled and moved to kiss his stubbly cheek. He held her tight and squeezed. “How goes it Old Dog,” Cerise said fondly to her temporary captor. “Still alive,” he grinned salaciously at her. “And still young enough to learn some new tricks if you are the one doing the teaching.” “Try it and I will neuter you,” Cerise threatened and tugged on his braid. “You dogs, all you think of is hunting, fighting and fucking.” “What else is there?” Izrayl growled in the back of his throat and raised an eyebrow at her suggestively.